All This Time
by MAYJornerd
Summary: They pretended it wasn't there. They denied their feelings. They put it off as nothing but admiration. But years later when there are no rules holding them back, when he isn't her boss and she isn't his subordinate... Can they finally admit to what they really want from each other? R & R please. Give it a chance. x
1. Been too long

**Hey, back for my second fic. :) **

**I appreciate any and all reviews, anonymous or signed. I'm learning and I want to be better at what I do, so please do R & R. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

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Emily lifted her light blue carry-on from the overhead cabinet with ease, until predictably, an impatient male passenger insisted his way through the crowded aisle. His elbow rammed into her lower back, causing Emily to loosen her grip on her bag's handle. It slipped completely and landed in her arms. She cursed unexpectedly in Spanish—very lightly—the language she'd been conversing in for the last month.

Hugging the bag to her chest, she turned to look at the man who had almost knocked everyone over in his path. Emily casted a dirty look behind his back, the former FBI agent wishing she could put the guy in a headlock right about now. Some people were too inconsiderate.

She lowered herself back to her seat and waited for everyone else to clear out. The plane wasn't leaving with her in it, after all.

The toddler beside Emily accidentally laid his tiny hand on her arm. The contact made her smile.

"Hi. That's a nice shirt you have on there." She faced him and the boy looked up at her uncertainly with rounded eyes.

"I don't like purple."

At that his mother looked up with a smirk, glancing at Emily. She gave the younger woman a smile.

"Really? I like purple."

"My mom made me wear this. I told her I didn't like it." He answered, oblivious that his mom was listening in.

"Well, I think you should listen to your mom. Because you look very handsome."

The toddler's cheeks flushed, gaining a chuckle from mom. "You think so?"

"Yes, I do. What's your name?"

"Neil. But I'm not supposed to say my last name because we just became friends."

That earned a hearty laugh from Emily, a quality she had regained over the years. "That's alright. I'm Emily." She said, still grinning.

She looked around and saw that most passengers had boarded off, and Emily reached for her bag again.

"It was nice talking to you, Neil." Emily smiled, removing herself from the tight space.

"Bye, Emily." Neil waved shyly.

She didn't see them again, though the brief conversation with Neil had her preoccupied all the way to the airport baggage retrieval. Emily always wanted a child. A husband. A family.

Clearly, Emily wasn't ready at fifteen. But as she grew older and found her footing, Emily realized that the family life was indeed for her. Looking back, it was easily understood why she never got to act on it despite her desire to do so. After more than one near-death experience and staring into serial killers' eyes—oh, and when she had to watch her friends attend her burial—where in the world would she have the energy or time to even entertain the thought?

Emily always admired JJ for having been able to achieve it all. To have been able to do what she loved, and to have Will and Henry waiting for her back home.

Not that her life at the moment was any further from Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss'.

She was now head of Interpol, overseeing any and all cases. Up in the highest ranks, the job was still as stressful and her life was still hanging in the balance at some points, but the difference was that she was always in a selfish position. Emily didn't have a team; she didn't have to think about the safety of others. There was no worrying about hurting people on the job, because there weren't any to start with.

Sometimes that was a good thing, but there have been moments when Emily wished she was back at that round table. With Garcia's flashy technology, Reid's brilliance, Morgan's teasing, JJ's comforting presence... Rossi's cooking.

Life in the BAU was hard, hard, hard, haaaaard. But she never felt alone. Someone always had her back, and she was beginning to miss that feeling.

Being away from the team led her to a lot of realizations. The most startling one was that she missed Hotch.

It wasn't that she didn't miss the others. She missed her old team so bad.

But it was different with Hotch. Whenever she thought about him or their days together, her stomach would flutter. She missed him with every fiber of her being, with so much intensity that it left her wondering why. Emily missed him so much that it hurt. It physically hurt.

It scared her the first few times. She didn't understand. She couldn't, because she was always in a place called denial.

Memories of him flooded her head, overwhelming her. The dark hair, those slightly bushy eyebrows—

"You look like you're paying attention," Emily snapped to the speaker. "But I know you better than that."

The voice belonged to a six foot two man wearing a black hoodie with dark pants that covered powerful leg muscles. Light brown hair framed his face, and ocean blue eyes smirked at her.

"What are you doing here?" Emily pushed past her surprise and grinned as she eased up on her toes to give him a hug. "I thought your day was booked."

"I'm so happy to see you. The Skype video calls didn't do your beautiful face justice." He turned to kiss her, his hands on her hips. Emily melted into his arms, moving closer. "And yeah, my day was booked. It still is. But Rivers gave me twenty minutes to come and meet you."

"Twenty minutes? He's softening up, Eric."

He chuckled. "If I go past twenty, he's going to give me an ultimatum."

"How much time do you have left?"

Eric lifted his hand from her face to glance at his watch. His face scrunched up distastefully. "Ten minutes—shit, just came down to nine."

"I wouldn't want you to run late. I know how important today's scrimmage is." Emily hid her disappointment, putting on her cheeriest voice.

"Today is important, not because of some scrimmage, but because my girlfriend's finally back home after four weeks of saving the world."

Saving the world… that was a big deal. Then, hunting down killers fuelled by their own motives was a big deal, too. That was a nice term. Maybe she was saving the world, one day at a time.

Emily smiled. "I missed you."

"What about we get a bite to eat?"

She smoothed down a part of his hair that stuck up. "You have six minutes left."

"Coffee, then. Please, Em."

"That ultimatum is gonna suck, believe me."

"You care about my career too much."

She grinned. "Someone has to."

"I'll make you dinner tonight. Anything you want. Say yes?" Eric said, taking her hands.

"Yes. Okay." Emily laughed. "I caught some sleep on the plane, so I might just be unpacking for the rest of the day."

He nodded thoughtfully and smiled. "Sounds like a sureproof plan."

Emily playfully tapped his wristwatch. "Five minutes, Eric."

He groaned, planting his lips to her forehead before sighing. "I will see you tonight."

"Show them what a legend is, okay?"

"I will. I love you."

"I love you, too." Emily broke into a grin and watched Eric leave the area, turning to her once to flash a sweet smile. Once he was gone, her mind asked for her luggage. She looked around and saw the burgundy suitcase upright on the floor. Eric must have taken it down for her.

She reminded herself to thank him later. Emily took all her belongings and started to walk back to the lobby. The wheels rolled familiarly on the marble floor as she dragged the bag across the room to where the vending machine was.

Fishing in her pockets for change while she went over the candy bars inside, she caught a reflection on the panel that made her freeze. Five people passed by behind her, and Emily could not hide the joy. She spun around, calling out the first person closest to her.

"Jayje!"

JJ heard her right away, her face shifting from surprise to recognition. She stopped and left her things where she stood, running to meet her old friend.

They embraced and giggled like school girls, clinging to each other for as long as time had kept them apart. "You do not age at all. My god, you look like yourself back when you first met Will."

"That's crazy talk, Emily." JJ grinned. "I have aged plenty. You, on the other hand, still look as stunning as ever."

They were interrupted by Garcia's small shriek as she joined in the huddle. "Emily Prentiss, you have no idea how much I longed to see your gorgeous face. I knew there was a reason I went along this case."

"I had to drag you on that plane, baby girl. You should thank me." Morgan appeared on Emily's side, squeezing her shoulders.

"Actually, Morgan, I pre-ordered all our tickets." Reid piped up.

Emily's face was hot from excitement. She hadn't seen them in years and to have them all around her was a tear-jerker experience.

Surrounded with the people she loved. It felt wonderful.

"Wait, you guys were on a case? You fly commercial now?" Emily looked at them. "What happened to our jet?"

"It's going through some repairs." His voice made her skin tingle. Emily looked up a bit cautiously as Hotch stepped forward. They smiled at each other, Hotch's eyes crinkling at the side. He still looked the same; they all did, except you could see when thirteen years did to them physically. Hotch met her gaze. "It's been too long, Emily."

Her throat jammed. "I agree."

"How long will you be in DC?" JJ's hand distracted her. "I propose a girl's night out for old time's sake. Maybe we'll meet another Brad-the-FBI-agent."

Garcia laughed gleefully. "Crap, I remember that! That was so hilarious."

Emily remembered that night very well. Good times. She noticed Garcia's more subtle take on fashion, wearing a cream colored top with a tan skirt and nude pumps. Touching her friend, she said, "You look different, Penelope. Good different."

"I work at the Pentagon now, sweetie. Can't argue with the dress code there." Garcia replied. "Besides, my outfits may have worked when I was younger, but someone mistook my style for creepy and asked if I lived alone with cats."

Emily stifled a big laugh, bringing a hand to her mouth. "That's horrible."

"Tell me about it! If only I could get that idiot's IP address, I'd create a virus that would eat his operating system alive."

"Come on, I'm going to have to arrest you for that." Morgan declared. Emily glanced at her frequent ex-partner, taking note of his thickening beard. "I grew it out. I think it works well with the ladies." He said to her, catching her looking.

"Oh, don't tell me you haven't settled down, Morgan. I won't believe it."

He let out a booming laugh, pecking the side of her face. "Once a profiler, always, huh? I'm seeing someone. Just—well, I don't know if it's serious. We'll see where it goes."

"So, my ray of sunshine, when's the wedding?" Garcia nudged her, grinning.

Emily's caught off guard expression matched Hotch's, little did she know. She scanned the group, lingering on Hotch but he didn't seem to notice. She chuckled, clearing her throat. "Until he proposes, a wedding's just speculation."

"He will. Eric will. He would be stupid not to want to marry you." JJ responded.

Emily finally caught Hotch looking at her, his piercing eyes burning a hole. Her neck flared up first. The heat rose to her cheeks and settled there. She began to scratch at an itch that was non-existent. "I don't know, guys. I mean, I don't wanna assume." Emily replied weakly as Hotch's stare grew heavier.

"If you're unsure, Emily, I could calculate the probability of your chances—" Reid said before Morgan put a hand to his mouth.

She grinned. "Thanks for the offer, Reid."

Reid smiled amicably, lightly hitting Morgan in the arm. Morgan hit him back, and the past flashed before Emily's eyes. It was just like them thirteen years ago. Like nothing had changed.

Emily was still smiling as she faced JJ, narrowly escaping Hotch. "How's Henry? I haven't hugged that boy in forever."

"Henry's big. Oh, Em, he still remembers you. Calls you Aunt Emily. We'd love to have you over sometime."

Emily nodded eagerly. "We will make that happen."

JJ beamed. "Speaking of Henry, I promised to have lunch with him today. I have to go."

"Oh, sounds fun. Tell him I said hi." Emily smiled sadly, missing JJ already.

"Sure. Hey, Spence, you're coming with me, right?" JJ asked, breaking up playtime with Morgan. He huffed, catching his breath, and nodded. Taking his duffel bag, he gave Emily a tight hug before waving goodbye.

"I gotta get moving, too. Have a mountain of criminals to track all over the country." Garcia sighed, kissing everyone. "And I have to feed my fifty cats."

They all laughed. Morgan offered to escort her out, saying that he had to attend to work also. "Prentiss, you and me, we'll find a case to work on together. You know, kick some ass like we used to."

"Definitely. We'll keep in touch, okay?" She hated the longing in her heart for her friends and wished they didn't have to go their separate ways.

"Alright. Bye, Prentiss, Hotch."

"Keep safe." Hotch told them, raising a hand goodbye.

As Morgan's footsteps got further and further away, Emily was forced to look at the one person she was left standing with. Her hands suddenly went cold, and Emily felt very shy.

"What about you?" She croaked out, looking at Hotch. "Don't let me keep you from anything, Hotch."

He smiled, and her knees wobbled. "No, no, I don't have to be anywhere."

Hope lit up in her. "Oh."

"Are you hungry?"

Emily's mouth dropped slightly as she blushed furiously. For crying out loud, he was only asking. That didn't mean anything.

"I ate a little on my way back from Spain."

"A little?" He had his hands in his pockets, and his head was cocked to the side. Hotch had on a small smile.

"Pudding. And a glass of water." Emily couldn't hide a chuckle.

Hotch hesitated, making her lean forward in curiosity. She caught a whiff of his scent and she tried not to smile as he was still using the same cologne. Emily searched his muddled face. She used to profile him so well, but at present she was having a little difficulty.

"Emily…" He started off.

Her heart thumped nervously; expectantly, as she waited for his next words.

"I was thinking we could have lunch. If you want to." Hotch said, his face going back to his signature stoic expression. "Unless, of course, someone beat me to it."

Emily understood, immediately filling in for him. "No. You're… I mean, I'm available. For lunch." Why she felt the need to add the last part was beyond her.

"Great." He answered, not missing a beat. "You can tell me about Spain, and we can have something a little more substantial than pudding."

"Hey, the pudding was really good."

"I know a restaurant that will knock that pudding out of the ballpark."

Emily grinned, falling into comfort. "Really?"

"Really." Hotch smiled back at her. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, about to take her suitcase, but his hand found it first. Emily almost cringed at the thought that they almost touched hands.

"I got it. It's okay."

"Hotch, no, it's alright. I can take it." Emily protested, though secretly pleased.

"I insist."

She found herself looking into his eyes, hearing the strength and assurance in his voice. Same old Hotch. The same one she… nevermind. "Okay. Thank you, Hotch."

Emily's heart almost stopped altogether when he simply smiled at her for what felt like an eternity. There was just something undeniably beautiful about him.

"I'm really glad to see you again, Emily."

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**I was thinking about a second chapter. I figured if most of you like where this is going, you'd probably want to see that lunch date happening. But I'm no mind reader, so please sound off in the review section. **

**Chapter two? Yeah? No?**

**Tell me what you think of this chapter! :) **

**Thanks for taking the time to read. x**


	2. Lunch date

**Here is Chapter two. Please please please I need more reviews. :( If you like what I've done so far, please share this fic to other H/P shippers.  
**

**Hope you guys like this.**

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"Wait, Hotch, what exactly happened to our jet?" She bit into the pizza, her teeth sinking into the melted cheese. "We rode that thing for almost six years straight and it never had to go through any fixing."

"One of the engines blew out. The jet just hit the ground, belly first." Hotch replied, bringing his hands together and resting his chin on them. His garlic bread sat on his plate nicely.

Emily was in the middle of her chewing, and she choked on some cheese that was coming down her throat. "What? Is anyone—" She started coughing.

Hotch grinned and then laughed before nudging the glass of iced tea to Emily. "Prentiss, chew. I'm a little rusty on my CPR."

She took a sip and that cleared her passageway. Seeing Hotch break into a big smile just like that was unusual, but so fascinating at the same time. It was never that way when they were in the BAU. A smiling Hotch was rare thing back then. Emily liked seeing him smile, even if it was her expense.

Emily had her head tipped down, and she glanced at him discreetly. She slightly blushed at her handsome smile, wondering why she never caught that before. She stopped herself before she started to drool and straightened up.

Hotch's smile hadn't faltered one bit, and she had to grin back. Emily sputtered the last of her coughs. He took a tissue from the pile, passing it to her. "Better?"

"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks." Emily smiled.

"You were saying?" Hotch prodded her gently.

"The jet. Crashed. Wow. Were you in—was the team in jet?" She almost had a slip of the tongue. Emily juggled the expression to see if he had noticed. If he did, he didn't show it.

"Just the pilot. And she's fine. It was a test run, so thankfully they did that or else we would've had more injuries on hand."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Good call for the pilot. So, you got the whole team together for a case?"

"Had to bring in the best people I knew for the job." Hotch looked at her regretfully. "JJ called your office, but we were told that another team already had you for a consultation."

The genuine regret in his eyes made her stomach lurch. "Yeah," Emily shook her head. "Bad timing, sorry. Hey, couldn't convince Rossi one last time?"

Hotch grinned. "The man has finally retired for good. He's off in Italy."

"That's too bad."

"At least we got to see you."

She thought she heard something different in his voice but dismissed it. What he said made her run twice its normal speed.

He said 'we', Emily. Get off your high horse. He's speaking for the team. Or he's just being polite. Chill out.

"Let me just bring it up again—you haven't been in this restaurant? Ever?" He asked, meeting her eyes, to her heart's disadvantage.

"I haven't." Emily grinned. "Which is ironic because DC has been home for so many years now. How did you find this place?"

"Morgan called me up sometime a year ago. He was in DC for a case and he told me about this humble pizzeria that nobody really knew about yet." Hotch said. "So I went in here with JJ and Reid for lunch, and I've been coming back ever since."

"I thought Reid was stationed in Los Angeles."

"He travels back and forth. He kinda has two teams." He chuckled. "But really, it's just JJ and I left."

"How does division chief feel like?" Emily teased, knowing his weak spot. He grinned, turned a little pink, and brushed a hand in front of his face to hide it. "Probably the same as the head of Interpol." Hotch shot back, smiling good-naturally.

"JJ enjoys being unit chief, doesn't she? I knew she'd make a good leader." Emily said, taking pride in her friend's promotion.

"Oh, JJ's doing a fantastic job. Her team is performing very well under her supervision. They take after all of us." He chuckled.

"And Morgan? How's New York?"

"Considerably the crime rate has taken a dive ever since Morgan was appointed unit chief there." Hotch smiled, and Emily could see the joy he felt for his old team's success. "Everyone's grown, and is just taking the world by storm."

"I find it bittersweet." She chuckled. "Don't get me wrong. I'm so proud of what everyone's accomplished. Sometimes I just would have wanted to have been actually there for them throughout the journey. The BAU will always be home—nothing can ever change that. I regret not being around."

The maintained hardness at the side of his eyes softened and he spoke in a light tone. "I think we're all a little guilty of that, Emily."

"Yeah?"

"Hey, if you wanna hop on the guilt train, I'm coming with you."

Emily's mouth curled into a smile. "Thanks, but you don't have to do that."

"Someone's gotta have your back."

She could have simply shut her eyes and let herself be whisked away by Hotch's words. He was being so sweet, so gentle… and just all warm inside. It all hit her at once and she held herself from reaching out to hold his hand. Emily was battling a war she had no plans of finishing. Because if sitting here with him for hours and hours got her to feel the way she did now, she would do it all the time.

"You always did." Emily pulled her fingers into a fist, glancing at Hotch's overturned hand. "How did your case go?"

"My case…?" He looked back at her distractedly. Then Hotch composed himself, bringing a chuckle with him. "You mean, the oh—we caught the unsub. She was picking kids from playgrounds and parks and keeping them for 48 hours before she killed them."

"And where was this?" Emily's stomach stirred slightly.

"Oregon. She killed a total of six before we got the call. Killed one when we were still building a profile."

"Oh, geez. I'm sorry. Hotch, are you okay?" Emily's hand unintentionally crept forward.

He glanced down at her hand, quickly going back to her face. She swallowed a blush.

"I'm fine. I'm learning how to constantly be fine." Hotch said with a small smile.

"And here I am thinking you'd already mastered that skill."

His smile widened. "Emily, you and I know that I keep a good poker face. That's all."

"Speaking of the infamous Hotchner stare, whatever happened to it?"

"I don't know what you mean." His eyebrows came together, his face tightening in confusion.

Emily thought it was adorable.

"I haven't seen you use it on me since we bumped into each other at the airport."

"Was I supposed to use the infamous Hotchner stare?"

Emily shook her head seriously. "I don't think so."

"Okay, so what's the problem?" Hotch laughed loudly, and Emily pointed a finger in his direction. "That. You're—you're laughing and smiling and…"

He quieted down into a grin and shook his head. "Alright, since you put a name to it; the Hotchner stare is for people I'm not too sure about. But with you, I don't feel the need to put my guard up. I don't know, Emily, it's just easier to be myself around you."

By now they had locked eyes, and she couldn't stop. Time literally froze as she continued to stare at the man across the table, her mind searching for words to compete with what he said.

But nothing could top that. It was the most heartfelt and most open thing he'd ever revealed. It made her feel beautiful, wanted and appreciated, but it left her so damn bewildered. Considering Emily's feelings—which just became clear as day, by the way—she wanted his words to mean the way she _wanted_ them to.

One gray spot, though. All her wanting won't change anything if Hotch meant that in a whole other way.

Hotch's fingers grazed her outstretched hand, sending a bolt of spark up her arm. She inadvertently gave an inward shoulder but willed herself to refrain from any, well, _violent _reactions.

"What about Spain? Business or pleasure?" Changing the subject with an easy smile, Hotch crossed his arms and positioned them on the table.

"Spain, yeah." Emily pulled back her hand a little stiffly than the norm as she nodded absently. "How do I put this… uh, I went there for business but ended up staying for pleasure."

"Business? A case, then?" His dark eyes lit up and a smile graced Hotch's lips. "You keep busy, don't you?"

"There's not much of a choice." Emily grinned. "But you know, like always, it is fulfilling—what we do."

Hotch nodded. "That's true. Who were you trying to catch?"

"James Thorpe. Ring any bells? He was a mob boss in Boston until his own men turned on him and he fled to Columbia to pursue a drug career. That was the last we heard of him until he fell off the grid."

"But you tracked him to Spain." Hotch completed.

"Yes, to a small town with one police station that was already in shambles." Emily said. "It was such a poor, rural area that it wasn't even listed on the official map of the country. That was partly why we had so much trouble locating Thorpe."

"I take it things move fast around Interpol with you running it." Hotch gave her something like a smirk and sipped from his half full cup of Coca-Cola.

That sent butterflies in her stomach. "The place was so compact that we covered the whole place with four tactical teams. It wasn't hard to find him once we were there, because everyone directed us to the villa of a large man with a weird accent. We closed the case in three days."

His eyebrows shot up. "Three days? That's it?"

"You said it, we move fast."

"I know, I just thought…" Hotch trailed off.

"What, Hotch?"

"With a tan like that, I figured you were there longer." He finished, smiling sheepishly.

Emily was beginning to feel self conscious. She glanced down at her arms, which _had_ gone a few shades darker, but really, she hadn't paid much attention to it. Hotch chuckled and she lifted her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you in a spot. I think… you look really nice, Emily."

Blood thundered in her ears. Emily resisted fanning herself because the temperature had certainly gone up.

She laughed thinly, still not over it. "Yeah, it was really steamy over there. I slept with all my windows open. It was a struggle at first but I got used to it." Emily looked at him. "And thanks."

"You're welcome." Hotch smiled. "What made you stay?"

Flashbacks of the women and children's frightened faces came at her but Emily relaxed and told him. "Thorpe had made a name for himself there. As we were about to leave, some townfolks approached me and revealed that we had just arrested a serial rapist, too."

"What?"

"I know. I was as floored as you are right now." She shook her head. "He had so much money, you know, and he took advantage of the people there."

"So you stayed."

"So I stayed." Emily smiled. "I didn't turn things around completely for them, but I felt it—I felt that my being there made them feel a lot safer than they've ever been. And that was enough."

"That sounds like you."

His smile made her insides mushy.

"I brought along some novels with me and I gave those away. Taught the kids a little English—no chalkboard or anything like that," Emily laughed. "Just sat with them in a circle. And the people were so nice, Hotch. Every morning I'd wake up and they had something on my doorstep. Mostly it was a basket of fruits… but oh, one time they put a dead chicken. I was kinda queasy about that but they offered to cook it for me and it turned out better than I thought."

"Sounds like you really enjoyed yourself, Emily."

She nodded. "I did, I did. It was sad that I had to leave them but I couldn't stay there forever."

"Yeah. Well, you did what was right for you and those people. Not a lot of people can follow up on what they truly want." Hotch said evenly, looking into her eyes with a quick smile.

Wait, what?

As Emily was in the middle of contemplating whether she was being too over imaginative or Hotch's words meant nothing more than he intended, the bell to the front door jingled, bringing her back to her senses.

"Eric?" Hotch asked pleasantly, the subject changing swiftly. Emily wondered how he did that effortlessly. "Eric, yes. My boyfriend."

"Was Garcia joking about the wedding or… I can keep secrets, Emily."

She had to smile despite the awkwardness that hung in the air. There was no doubt he could keep a secret. Because he helped fake her own death many years ago, and with JJ's help, hid the truth from the team for months. That was a long time ago, but she could recount every moment like it happened yesterday.

"She… assumed. Eric and I have together for over five years. People just think it's going down that path."

"Isn't it?" Hotch had his eyebrows raised.

Emily shrugged, another helpless laugh coming out. "I—I don't know. I just don't want to be a step ahead this time."

"Sure, sure, I get what you're trying to say." He picked up Emily's hand, folding it with his. Hotch's grip was firm yet gentle, and his hand was powder soft. She found it hard to keep still. Emily's fingers relaxed, falling into the palm of his hand. "I'm happy for you."

Her heard sank a little. It had felt so right, Hotch taking her hand like that, and she wanted the moment to go on forever. But it hurt… because he was _happy_ for her. Ridiculous, yes, but she didn't want him to be happy, because then that would mean he was alright with her and Eric and _that_ meant-oh for the love of all things holy, this has to stop right now.

The table vibrated, Hotch's phone springing to life. His hand slipped away from hers as he reached into his pocket.

"Hey buddy… No, I'm DC already, just having lunch with Aunt Emily… Yeah, I know, it's been awhile. We'll have her over at the house, if she gives her okay… I haven't forgotten… Dinner? Alright, ask Mom to drive you… I may not be home until later tonight… Alright, Jack… Bye."

Hotch smiled as he set down his phone. "Gone were the days when he'd get upset if I didn't tell him I loved him at the end of a conversation."

"Ah, Jack still sees you as his superhero no matter what." Emily said, inching her hand back slowly. "How is he?"

"He's a teenager." Came his short reply. "He's a good kid, but he's a teenager."

Emily laughed. "I can imagine where you're coming from. And Beth?" Her voice between the lines of polite.

"We, uh, we actually got married." He began to twirl the new wedding band on his finger.

All Emily could do was look surprised, but really she was reeling from the bomb that was dropped on her. She forced on her face a big smile. So big her teeth hurt. "Oh. Wow. That's… wow."

"Nothing big. Just at the courthouse." Hotch quickly added. "It was an impulsive decision but we're fairly happy with it."

"Oh." She kicked herself for beginning to sound stupid. "No plans for a church wedding or something?" Emily asked weakly.

"That's still open for discussion. I think I'm probably too old for it, but we never know."

Emily didn't know why she went on. Her voice struggled to sound the same. "Jack's all grown up now, you guys thought about an addition to the family?"

"Ahh," Hotch dropped his hands to his knees and leaned back. "Beth… well, she can't. Beth can't."

"That's unfortunate. I'm sorry. There are other options."

He noded, almost looking eager. "There are. We've been talking about adopting. If felt like the best way, you know, no lab tests or anything like that."

"Yeah, yeah, the process is going to take awhile, but I'm sure you'll breeze through it. You're such a good father to Jack, and they'll see that."

He flashed her a beaming smile, leaning forwards and Emily almost wished he'd kiss her. She chastised herself severely before focusing on him again.

"Thanks. I mean it, thanks. That means a lot to me, coming from you."

Why why whyyyyyyyy did every reply of his had her weak at the knees?

"Good luck. With the adoption. I hope it goes well." She smiled. Emily was bothered, but she tried not to let on. Finally she found her exit, pretending to stifle a yawn.

"You must be tired. That plane ride must have taken its toll." He commented. Hotch pulled out his wallet.

"We'll go Dutch, okay?"

Hotch smiled and agreed. "Sure."

They placed their separate payments on the table. Emily glanced at him as she scooted out of the seat. "Get some rest, too, Hotch."

"I will be doing that. After paperwork." He grinned.

"I can relate." Emily replied. "Have to unpack first, though. Thanks for lunch. I enjoyed it a lot."

"We could do it more often." Hotch suggested lightly.

"Yeah, why not?" Her heart picked up pace again.

"Hey, Emily, dinner would be a lot more fun if you were around. What about tomorrow night? Jack would love it."

And you? Would you love it? Emily couldn't stop herself. She ran her hands through her hair and exhaled. "Tomorrow night I have a meeting with the head of SWAT from 18 states and a couple of big players in law enforcement but if we wrap up early, I will try and drop by."

"Okay. I do hope you'll make it."

Emily smiled, pausing. It was time to leave, but she didn't know what an appropriate gesture would be. Her thoughts had skirted along the lines of really inappropriate—the man was married, apparently—but she could pretend to be decent on the outside.

He leaned like he was about to hug her, but Emily's hand shot out to his shoulder faster. She pushed up and pressed the side of her face to his for nothing shorter than a second, hurriedly turning away.

"I'll see you, Hotch." Her back was already turned, her hand tugging at the suitcase. Emily's face heated up again and she bowed her head slightly so her hair curtained over her flaming cheeks.

"Emily…" She heard him say, and then nothing. She didn't stop. She was afraid of what would happen if she did. "Bye. Bye, Emily."


	3. Unspoken

**Thank you for your reviews! I really appreciate it. **

**Chapter 3. R & R, please! x**

* * *

Emily's hand was poised over the crisp white paper, a pen dangling as she read the details of the report. She had a number of reports that needed her signature, and she had to read it all, word for word. Her eyes snapped back and forth the sentences until she got to the last line. All ended well in this case.

She signed on the line above her name with a flourish. Pushing that folder to her 'complete' section that was at the left side, Emily reached to her right for another case report. It was a never ending aspect of the job. A lot of things happen in a certain case, and literally every little thing had to be documented—and it had to be documented right. The last thing they wanted was a criminal being exonerated because of some typo. She didn't usually find it so dreadful—until she thought she was free for the rest of the evening after that long discussion with several law enforcement members.

Not that she was actually holding up to Hotch's invitation to dinner. Nothing would be weirder than sitting at that table with Jack, Hotch and his… wife. Right. Married. Emily kept forgetting that. And even if she had finished earlier, there was no possible way she could bring herself to even _pretend_ to like the situation. Besides, she was probably going to do something ridiculous like imagine that it was her family and _Beth_ was the guest.

Oh, god, she was out of her mind. Emily was going mental. Really? _Really?_

Emily flipped the folder open and conditioned her eyes to begin reading. At least this kept her busy.

A knock on her door made her pause without looking up. "Come in."

"Agent Prentiss, you have a visitor." Nadine, her secretary, poked her head in. Her dark curls fell over her shoulders as she looked over at Emily inquiringly.

Still keeping her head down, she said, "It's late. Can you just take a message or have them set an appointment for tomorrow?"

"He's being insistent, Agent Prentiss. He wants to meet with you now."

Emily put her head down and looked at Nadine with curious eyes. "Is it Eric?"

"Afraid not. It's Aaron Hotchner."

She almost buckled in her seat. Nadine took her reaction as annoyance or indifference, saying, "I can ask him to leave, if…"

"No," Emily gulped. "Have him come in, please."

Nadine nodded and stepped out, the door left ajar. Moments passed and Emily waited in anticipation. A familiar hand pressed against the door, pushing it open. Hotch slipped in with an impish grin, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He had a paper bag in one hand, and a small bouquet in the other. He shut the door, and turned to her.

Emily sat still, stunned.

"I was going to surprise you but, uh, I guess that's what secretaries are for. You don't get much surprises around here, do you?"

She managed to shake her head. "Believe me, this is a surprise."

He strode to Emily's desk, his body looming over her as she stayed fixed on her chair. He lifted the paper bag—heavier than it looked like—and the muscles in his arm ripped. Emily went back to staring at his face, which was an even more heavenly sight to look at.

"You didn't make it to dinner, so I figured I'd bring dinner to you." Hotch's eyes met hers, and he brought his hand around to give her flowers. "I saw these in the shop window and just… thought of you. I know how much you like them."

Emily received it with a hand that she forced steady. She glanced down at the array of her favorite flowers and then brought the fresh arrangement to her nose, inhaling the sweet mixture of scents. "This is so beautiful, Hotch. Thank you. I… I've never seen them sell an arrangement like this one. Did you pick these yourself?"

Hotch looked away and then back to her, his cheeks a little redder under the lights. "Yeah. I did. I'm glad you like it."

Emily's heart was literally out of her chest. Lord, help her. He was being so sweet, how was she supposed to react to _that?_ Because every time she had to urge to react _normally_, Emily had to control herself—normal with Hotch wasn't seeing him as her friend, okay? Normal was being inlove with him. For the life of her, that's all she's been feeling since she began in the BAU. Even when she quit to work with Interpol, nothing changed, even if she hoped something would. Nothing will, because the last nineteen years she's tried. Tried hard. And things always led back to him.

Look at them now. Thirteen years after she left for another job, what were the chances they would catch one another in that airport?

Life had its own way of bringing her back to where she really needed to be—and to whom she really wanted.

"You didn't have to do all this. This is wonderful, really, but I'm sure you had better plans than being stuck here in the office."

Hotch sat down on the plush chair across her, a smile escaping his lips. He nodded, saying, "Being stuck in the office is back at the federal building. People there are no fun. So serious." Hotch wiggled his eyebrows pointedly.

She played along with him. "Yeah, same thing around here."

"But," Hotch paused. "Being stuck in a office to Emily Prentiss is not a bad way to spend an evening."

"The joke isn't funny, Hotch."

"I'm as serious as a heart attack, Em. I don't know anyone else I'd rather spend right now with." He turned a soulful gaze to her, and Emily had to control even her breathing. Did he know he was doing this to her? Because the effect he had on her was shattering, almost always leaving her dumbfounded—and that isn't a trait of hers. Nope, that just happened whenever he was around.

"Yes, you do. Your wife." The words left an odd taste in her mouth.

"Beth is a lovely woman. I assure you, she is. But she hasn't seen Hotch. She knows Aaron, but not Hotch. For most of my life, I've been Hotch and as you know… Hotch has not had it easy. You've seen Hotch, and you're put up with him and you've accepted him. I know you have. Honestly, that means more." Emily looked into his eyes, slowly getting lost in the intensity that he bore. "So I'm gonna say it again. You and me, this is what I want."

The breath rushed out of her. "Okay. You got me."

Hotch grinned and got up to reach into the bag. She had to wonder what he had for her. Carefully placing the two containers at a clear space on her desk, Hotch recited off the dishes. "Buttered vegetables and steamed chicken. I cooked… and Jack took the chicken out of the freezer." He said with a laugh.

Emily helped him take the lids off, the heat hitting her face. The food smelled so delicious, and she already believed in Hotch's good cooking.

"You like pineapple juice, right?" I remember you loved to order them on our team dinners." Hotch lifted a bottle out of the bag, glancing at her.

"I did, about thirteen years ago." Emily grinned although secretly very pleased at his accurate memory. "But after a very _wrong_ experience with a badly prepared bug infested pineapple drink, I've moved on to apples."

"Then it's a good thing I brought another flavor." Hotch handed her the apple flavored one, and she could not avoid shaking her head in amazement. "Why are you looking at me like that? What?"

"I'm sorry, but how do you do everything right?"

He uncapped his own drink and looked at her thoughtfully. "Nah, I wouldn't say that." Hotch brought the opening to his mouth, chugging at the pineapple drink. "Doing the right thing would've been telling… well, there are things I should have done. Not just because it was _right_, but because it was what I wanted. It still is."

Hotch sounded strange, slightly different, but Emily decided not to put too much thought into it. She'd go crazy if she interpreted every little thing. "Waited for the perfect moment?"

"There isn't one."

"There isn't." Emily affirmed. She smiled, picking up the utensils Hotch had responsibly packed and separated the spoon and fork. "Take your pick, Hotch."

"But I already ate."

"You can't just _look_ at me while I'm eating."

"I think I can."

"Come on, I am starving. Eat." She thrust the spoon into his hand. Hotch smirked, and that instantly became one of Emily's favorite smiles. She stabbed a broccoli and that pretty much started her appetite.

"To be honest, I am eating the best home cooked meal. No kidding." She gushed a little later, taking apart the chicken breast. Hotch grinned as he nibbled on a small piece of corn. "Thanks. Your compliments always warm my heart."

The next two hours were spent well as they indulge in their work lives, spinning off stories of their day to day heroic deeds, granting each other laughter and smiles. Emily had put aside all the paperwork, kicked off her work heels and folded her legs beneath her. She felt a little shy—like a schoolgirl—when he moved his chair next to hers, their armrests closely positioned. And she tried not to blush whenever their arms brushed against each other. Or whenever their elbows collided. Or whenever they touched shoulders. She tried not to blush at all, period.

"You popped a button?" Hotch's infectious laughter hit all the right places. "I know right? Out of all places! It was so crazy, Hotch." Emily joined in, gasping in between sentences. "Imagine my horror when I'm interrogating the bastard, and I'm angry and yelling and he's scared shitless—"

"—because you're angry and yelling—"

"—right? And they're depending on me for a confession. I'm just bringing my A-game, Hotch, and it… it just popped!"

"Oh, geez, Emily, please stop." He laughed harder, lowering his head to his arm beside Emily's. His short hair tickled her arm as he buried his face in laughter. Emily touched his head playfully, sinking her fingers into his hair for only a second, because she might not be able to resist running her hand through his dark hair. "And guess what happened?"

He raised his teary eyes, bringing his face to rest again on his arm. Emily felt his hot breath on her own arm. Hotch smiled up at her adorably. "What?"

"We got a confession."

They exploded into another around of non-stop giggles, both of them turning unbelievably red. "I gotta be honest, Emily, I didn't teach you that strategy back then. If I had known it'd clean up the streets of criminals…"

"Oh, come on," She grinned. "It was a time wonder."

"Knowing you, you probably hid the evidence."

Emily burst out in laughter because Hotch knew exactly what he was talking about. "I might've sweet talked the technician to hand over the tapes from interrogation."

"Emily!"

"Cut me some slack—I was wearing a red bra."

"Emilyyyy," Hotch turned beet red, still laughing, and Emily realized how awkward that must have come off if in another situation. "That was evidence."

"I put it back!" Emily protested with a grin. "Well, right after I asked Garcia to edit the part where my shirt button decides to leave."

"Wait, you involved Garcia?"

"She was helping out a friend."

"You didn't think she'd keep a copy of the original video?" Hotch deadpanned. Emily stopped laughing as she looked at his serious face. Her smile shrank until it formed into a small 'o'.

"Oh my god, Hotch, you're on to something."

Instead of reassuring her otherwise, Hotch added injury to insult. "She will have a field day with it. You know, if that got on Youtube, I'm thinking it got around 3,000 views per day. And that's just in the country, I mean—"

Emily lunged for her cellphone to call Penelope but he snatched it and held it away, another smirk landing on his face. She practically clawed her way to it, but his long arm had her shifting positions. Emily was balanced on her chair, and on her knees, to get a hold of her iPhone. "Emily, I was kidding!" Hotch laughed.

"Give me my phone back," She grinned and reached higher. Placing a hand on his chest, Emily reached and reached, but to no avail. She hardly noticed how she was almost sitting on his lap.

"You're going to make us fall over." Hotch's other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her. He couldn't stop laughing, and neither could she. "Okay, okay! I'll give it back. Here. It's done."

He released her, and Emily grabbed her phone and collapsed back on her chair, taking in deep breaths. Hotch let out a last laugh and she turned to him, smiling before punching his arm lightly. "You sillyhead."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Hotch replied, smiling back. He looked like he'd lost a little breath, too.

"Relax, I meant it as a compliment."

A comfortable silence passed them. Hotch broke it by saying, "You're going to be around for awhile, right?"

"You mean in Washington?"

Hotch chuckled. "Yeah, in Washington."

"Sure. Unless another assignment calls for me, hopefully I'll be here for longer than six months."

He turned his head and looked at her intently. "You travel a lot. Why not stay in one place? Why not stay here?"

"Because criminals don't just stay in Washington. They like to go off and hide. And it's my job to find them." Emily smiled. "Sometimes it's like they know I'm coming, and they book a flight to freaking Narnia."

"Really? It can't always be that horrible."

"Yeah, of course, it has its perks. I've been to Brazil nine times, and Rome twice. Germany… three and London would be three times, too. And a lot more places that would've been beautiful if only I weren't there to catch some murderous idiot."

"Murderous idiot—I like the way you put that." She stuck her tongue out at him and stretched her tired legs. "What's your favorite place?"

"Paris holds a special place in my heart." Hotch looked like he immediately understood why. "I lived there for almost two years while on a case. Just because it brought back memories. Mostly good."

"And I recall you lived there for about a year and four months. But not as Emily Prentiss.

"There's the partly bad. And nope, not as her. But I love it there. I mean, sure, before it held a different meaning for me. I was away from home, from you guys, and I was in foreign land. Paris was nothing but a hideout. It's not the same anymore now. I've decided to turn it into something beautiful, you know? When I was all alone, that was when I grew. I learned. Changed. And every time I visit Paris I'm reminded of how nothing is impossible."

"You see, this is why I like Emily Prentiss. Glad she's here."

"Glad to be here." Emily answered with a big smile. "And for the record I was never _truly_ alone."

"Yeah, you had Cheeto Breath." Hotch grinned, dropping JJ's username on an online game she used as a means to stay in touch with Emily. "I picked up the phone for you."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Then JJ put it down. Because we couldn't risk your safety. It was always too dangerous at the time, you know." Hotch shook his head, touching his wrists. "There was never a time when we could let our guard down."

Emily looked at him directly, her eyes not straying from his. "You should've told me. That you tried to call."

"Emily, there are a lot of things I wish would've said to you." Hotch stared back, and she saw something flash in his eyes. He turned away, then opened his mouth like he was about to say something, and then he clamped shut. She was a profiler, but now she was just confused. As Emily gauged the situation, Hotch looked at her again, and she knew something was going to happen. He started to say something.

"I—"

There were voices outside. Before they could realize it, the knob turned and Emily's boyfriend squeezed his athletic body in. He was wearing his practice jersey and an old pair of jeans. He stopped when he saw she wasn't alone.

Emily was torn as she glanced at Hotch, who stood up even if he clearly wasn't expecting a third party. Eric gave her a small smile before acknowledging Hotch. Hotch left her side to shake hands with the lean soccer player. "I'm Aaron Hotchner. Emily's co-worker."

He gave Hotch one of his winning smiles. "Hey. So are you just Agent or Special Agent?"

"Supervisory Special Agent."

"Woah, sounds important. Nice to meet you, man. Eric Miller."

Emily was in pieces as she looked from one man to the other. She lingered on Hotch but saw nothing on his face other than that stoic expression. He seemed tense now that Eric was in the room, and she could tell he was being cautious. Now, she could profile his behavior.

"My, uh, my son's a fan. Number 18."

"That's me. Thanks, that's awesome." Eric grinned. "Does he play soccer, too?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes, he does."

Neither of them noticed her lack of luster, which was good for her, because Emily was still in the process of fixing her emotions. She felt so guilty. So guilty, because the moment Eric walked in, she had wanted him out. She just wanted to go on forever with Hotch.

Emily wanted to dump a bucket of cold water on herself. Wake up. Your boyfriend is here. Stop thinking about a married man whose feelings you're still in the dark about. God, she couldn't stop. They were both standing there, and all she could see was Hotch.

She needed that bucket of water now.

Unknown to her, both men were now looking at her. Emily looked at Hotch first, but the warmth was no longer there and Eric was speaking. So she reluctantly turned to Eric.

"I came home and the place was dark. I got worried." He was saying.

"Sorry." Emily murmured, her eyes falling on Hotch again. "I was here all day."

Eric shrugged with a disarming smile. "Sure. It's alright, just wanted to check on you." She nodded, as if understanding him, but her mind was on Hotch, who was slowly backing away into the far end of the room. She couldn't see his face, and she wished Hotch would simply look at her so that he could see how much she didn't like what was happening either. That she'd rather be alone with _him_.

Emily moved out of her chair, almost following Hotch right away. She paused in front of her desk, her eyes on his profile. Hotch finally looked at her, his eyes dull, though he had on a polite smile. Polite. Not friendly, not sweet. Not like the smiles he had for her minutes ago.

"So, are you ready to go or…" Eric asked.

She looked over at Hotch, her brain working on some sort of excuse. Anything. Just anything.

Something sparked in Hotch and he took a step toward the couple, his face perplexed. Emily took that as a go. "Actually, Hotch and I—"

The phone in Hotch's phone rang, the screen lights going off in his hand. Whatever was about to happen faded. Hotch looked mildly irritated as he looked down on the Caller ID. Emily saw who it was, her muscles clenching. Hotch took a quick look at her before he ended the call.

_Beth._

"It's alright, Emily. I have to get going anyway." He said with a plain smile. Giving them a curt nod, he turned for the door.

"Hotch, wait."

He froze and Emily did, too. What the hell was she doing? "Thank you. For everything. This was nice." She stammered, scrubbing a hand over her jaw.

And then he surprised her. He nodded, and smiled. But it was a sad smile. There was no mistaking it. Even as he walked away and the door shut, that smile tugged at her heart. It was all her mind could think about.

Her boyfriend took her hand, grinning. "Come on. Let's go home."

She was hurting when she shouldn't be. A lump formed in her throat, and it took all her willpower not to run after Hotch. Emily forced a smile, feeling passive, unable to look Eric in the eyes. "Sure."

Emily gathered her things and packed up some files, feeling numb. This was so wrong. It shouldn't be this way. She looked fleetingly at the door. Please, Hotch. Walk in here again. Please. She slammed a notebook a little too hard on her desk as the frustration got the best of her. Get over yourself. Tonight was nothing but a night between friends. Nothing happened before, and nothing's going to.

But as Emily got in the car, almost having herself convinced of the most painful thing, she thought back to that second before Eric walked in.

What was Hotch going to say?


	4. Easier said than done

**Keep the reviews coming, guys! Thank you. :)**

* * *

Emily rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, even if it was nine in the morning. The wet tips of her hair touched the back of her neck as she leaned down to pick up the tissue she had tossed at the trashcan, but missed. She sighed, going back up, her fingers tightly wrapped around her coffee cup. Her body was aching for a few more hours of sleep, but Emily had deadlines she needed to meet for the day and if she didn't get the covers off of her, she was going to be in bed until the sun went down.

She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night, because she couldn't stop the thoughts from surging every time she almost dozed off. Emily knew where she stood in all this—she was still inlove with Hotch… and maybe she always will be. And honestly, at one point she thought she was past that misfortune of unrequited love, but the past two days with him ignited hope in her and that maybe they did have a chance.

It was somewhat an exhilarating moment when she saw him again at that airport. Something close to being transported back in time. And it was ridiculous how her heart raced like it did, how her palms went clammy—she used to wipe them on the front of her pants—and how she tried not to smile at seeing him, because every glance at her sent jitters down her spine. He made Emily feel the same way she did when they were younger—and that was something. That was when Emily knew her heart still yearned for him.

But it was unfair. Unfair to Eric, who loved her even when she was reluctant to love him back. He was a dreamboat; her knight in a shining armor; he was a real-life fairytale. What more could she deserve, right? After everything she'd been through—after how many times she'd almost given her life for another… after having to hurt her family just so she could protect them… Eric was going to fix her. He was there to make her whole, to try and turn her back to before the pain. Eric was _that_ guy.

The thing is… there was the man who did his best for her to remain whole, who placed himself in the crosshairs of the blame just so she could be safe. He was around before her life was turned upside down. He was around when her world crumbled. He was there during the aftermath, picking up her broken self. Hotch has always been there.

Emily loved Eric, truly, she did. She was so thankful to him for bringing back a little of what she's lost, and for continuing to love her every single day. But he will never be able to make her feel the way Hotch does, and Emily can't ever look at Eric the same way she looks at Hotch.

It hurt her, too, knowing that Hotch will always have the biggest place in her heart.

She was frightened about how much she cared for him, because that didn't happen to her. In the totality of her life, she hadn't loved one person this much that it would last for almost twenty years. But to even start on how Hotch really felt about her… that was scarier.

Emily knew she couldn't go on like this her whole life. Loving someone from a distance and not knowing what could have been? Emily knew that would eat her alive and she'd been through enough to know that she wasn't going to allow herself to end up that way. She was going to find out one way or the other, she was either going to love it or hate it but closure is what it is and Emily needed that.

Ever heard of the quote, 'When I asked if thing were going to be worse, it was a rhetorical question. Not a challenge.' ?

Well, sometimes life was a bitch. And Emily just might get her answers today. Because occupying her table was none other Aaron Hotchner.

She held her breath, the chills that sprinted up her body almost turning the hot coffee to ice. He had one leg up on the other, a magazine expertly placed on his lap. Even with his dress shirt, she could see his strong arms working as picked up a mug of coffee and lifted an empty plate at the same time. His masculine profile was an eye catching sight and he brought the drink to his mouth, Hotch's eye moving to the big window. Sunlight bounced off his eyes playfully, and Emily was almost a puddle as she moved to him.

Hotch didn't see her coming. Emily calmed her nerves, genuine surprise in her voice when she spoke. "Either you're being very kind by keeping my table open, or you just stole my table right from under my nose."

He looked up upon hearing her, looking really surprised as well. Hotch stood up and dropped the magazine on his chair, smiling. "Hey,"

"Hey." Emily's initial heart pounding minutes faded as the comforting shadow of camaraderie fell over them. She smiled, and before she could react, he took her in for a hug. His right arm draped over her shoulder, and his left found its way around her hips. His scent overwhelmed her nicely as Emily reached up to place her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder. Her hands rested on his muscled back, the coffee almost slipping from her fingers as Hotch's hug tightened.

"Hey," Hotch said again, this time into her hair. "It's great to see you."

Her body fit right into his and Emily could imagine her knees giving way under her if this went on. Emily felt ultimately safe and right at home in his arms. She closed her eyes for second and savoured what she felt like was one of the most beautiful moments of her life.

"You too, Hotch. You too."

Hotch pulled away, but Emily felt his hands on her waist. The shirt she was wearing suddenly felt like it was made of tissue paper, because she could feel the warmth of his hands directly on her skin. Her imagination may have been on overdrive but she was pretty confident the spot below his fingers were going to leave marks. "I'm so happy I ran into you. You're not in a hurry, are you? Because I was really hoping someone would fill this empty seat beside me."

"Only if you apologize for taking my table without permission."

He laughed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was taken. But please, have a seat."

Emily put her coffee down and she grinned as she sat on the chair offered. Brushing a strand that fell over her face, she chuckled, and said, "It's alright. I didn't realize the place had been swarmed while I was in the line either."

"Then I'll take my apology back. We're even."

"Fair enough."

Hotch eyed her with a smile, resting his elbows on the table. "What brings you here?"

Emily raised her cup of coffee. "Great coffee."

"Your building is way on the other side." He replied in a mixture of concern and surprise. Emily thought it was typical of him to always worry about others, but really, it made her all warm inside that he cared. "That's a long way for great coffee."

"Ah, well. The things we do for great coffee, you know." Emily grinned. "And you? No work today?" She noted the lack of formality. She was getting used to seeing him dressed like they were out on a… date. Okay, focus, Emily. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"Nope. Not today. Actually, about thirty minutes ago I dropped Jack off at soccer practice." Hotch said. "Their team is defending champion of the little league, and the school is giving them some leeway to practice during school hours. I wanted to stay and watch him, but he gets a little tight with an audience."

"Oh. He just wants to make you proud."

Hotch smiled. "I know."

He leaned back in his chair, revealing the whole of his clothing and Emily was taken aback. The blue shirt with the fine lines struck a chord, and quick flashback of her bruised hands reaching for it came back to her. What was that? Emily didn't mean to completely go off track, but there was something so familiar about the shirt. Hotch must have noticed the expression she was wearing, because he leaned to her and asked, "What's going on?"

She thought about telling him but at the last second it felt pathetic. Emily shook her head with a small smile. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Oh, it's something." Hotch's curiosity was now raised and his eyes roamed her face, probably searching for her tell. Emily intertwined her fingers around the warm body of the coffee cup, and thought long and hard about that faint memory. Something about it bothered her, and she was unable to shake off the image of her badly cut-up hands clinging to it. She looked at him, but he was already looking at her. "Emily, what is it?"

"Your shirt." She blurted out, gaining an off-guard look from him. He smiled, nevertheless. "You like it?"

"No. I mean—well, it's not…"

Now Hotch looked confused, but there was still that playful smile. "You _don't_ like my shirt?"

Emily chuckled, sighing in between because now she did come off as spacey. She looked from side to side to try and explain coherently why she was, well, why she was staring at his shirt. Something about his shirt clicked, and it was going to sound weird, but Emily had to know. The only way she could have gotten her hands that way was at work, so she went from there. "Did you… did you wear that shirt on a case?"

His mouth dropped, looking thoughtful for a minute. Then the spark in his eyes died and he nodded. "It's funny that you ask that. Because I did. Remember that child abuse case in Colorado? We found out it was a cult and they were running the operation." Emily still looked muddled, so Hotch continued. "We were out in the desert, with our tents set up. You and Reid had to go undercover."

Oh.

Now Emily remembered. A man named Cyrus gave her a beating. Slammed her against a mirror. Shoved the butt of his gun to her face. Hit her with his fists. Oh, yeah. She remembered clearly. A bomb was set to explode in that compound and she was running out. Hotch met her at the bottom of the steps as the whole place burst into flames. That explained the shirt.

"What year was that? 2008?"

Hotch was looking off to a distance and he nodded distractedly, echoing her words. "2008."

It was her turn to observe him. His jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed. In less than a minute Emily saw an upset Hotch. She wondered what he was thinking about and instinctively touched his forearm. He didn't flinch and that was what worried Emily. He didn't react at all. Whatever Hotch was going through at the moment, had him at a dark place. "Hotch," Emily squeezed his arm. "Hey, are you okay?"

Then he snapped out it, nodding. He placed a hand on top of hers, inserting his thumb into her palm so he was holding her. "Sorry. I'm fine."

Not convinced, she gave his hand another squeeze. "You had me worried there."

"Really, I'm okay." Hotch smiled, looking like he was back to his usual self. He shook his head dismissively. He loosened his hold, and Emily took that chance to remove her hand. She wondered if it was as hot as her face right now. If it had stayed on longer, she'd have to face the awkwardness later and she was already a bit dizzy just thinking about it. Her heart was pounding, as usual, and Emily realized it was easier said than done. She wanted to know what he felt but apparently not if it isn't what she wanted to hear. This was a mess. Emily could not believe how afraid of the truth she was right now. "I'm okay."

"Okay." Emily said slowly. "But I'm here, alright?"

"You're here." Hotch repeated. And just like that, his eyes went back to the calm state, the light brown color swimming clearly. He gave her a long look. "Did you finish your paper load?"

"Some."

"Did you get any _sleep?"_

She chuckled and glanced at him. She was sure she looked guilty as hell. "Not much."

"Me too. It's just frustrating and fascinating how my brain can't shut up. It just keeps going on and on… and on. I've just been thinking a lot."

Emily understood exactly what he was talking about. She was at that place last night. And the other night. She finished her coffee. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I feel like I'm too smart for my own good."

"Mm-hmm." Hotch laughed and knocked back the remains of his black coffee. "I'm guessing you're headed for work?"

She hid a sad smile. "Yes. You'd be right."

"Let me take you to your car."

"I walked, actually."

Hotch was up, and so was Emily, and he gave her an open mouth stare. She had to stifle a loud laugh as he stopped in the middle of searching in his pockets for his own car keys. "You walked? From your apartment? That's thirty blocks from this coffee shop?"

"I like fresh air."

"With the stream of cars at this hour, air is anything but fresh."

"Well, I like air."

"Emily."

"It helps me clear my head."

Hotch nodded, finally finding his keys. He tipped his head outside and smiled. "Come on. I'll drive you."

"Oh, you don't have to do that…" Emily protested as they weaved their way to the door. He paused to let her go first, seeing a big group of colleagues on their way in. She felt his hand on her lower back, gently pushing her forward. The rowdiest of the pack forced his way in and Emily had to stop unless she wanted to get knocked over. Even if she had stepped down, the younger man seemed to be so into the tale he was sharing that he didn't mind where his hands were flailing into. Emily backed away, bumping into Hotch's firm chest. Hotch moved to her side, his hand sliding to her hips. It laid there as he positioned himself in front of her, directly in the path of the oncoming loudmouth. Before Emily could realize what he was doing, the sound of a heavy thump came as his hand hit Hotch smack in the back.

Her hand flew to her mouth as Emily gasped. Hotch cringed in annoyance, but glanced at her with quick smile. "Oops, hey, sorry man." The blonde mass of hair apologized, seeing Hotch's tall frame.

"Just watch where you're going next time before you hurt someone." Emily recognized the hard edge interrogation voice he put on. It worked, because he piped down, walking away quickly. "You okay?" Hotch turned to Emily.

Seriously, she did not want his hand to ever leave her hip.

"You're asking me?" She threw back incredulously.

Hotch grinned. "I'm fine." And like a true gentleman, he stepped in front of her to open the door. Emily shook her head knowingly at him, though she had to smile at his sweet gesture. "Thank you. For that. And for opening the door."

"Not a problem, Em."

"And hey, maybe you didn't hear me—"

"—I heard you, Emily."

"I'm serious, Hotch. I walked here, I can walk back."

He stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her knowingly with that smirk. That damn smirk. "Right. Because you like fresh air. Or air, in general."

Emily opened her mouth for a sharp retort, but ended up giving Hotch a huge smile instead. She shoved him away, getting him off one leg. He laughed, clutching his stomach.

"You are mocking me."

"I am stating a fact you attested to earlier."

"I didn't realize I was speaking to Reid."

"Now look who's mocking who." Hotch answered, smiling as he took a step closer. He opened his arms to her. "Look, I don't have anything on my to-do list. And I don't mind driving you to where you need to be."

"I will _honestly_ be okay on my own."

"I'm driving you, Emily."

"Driving me crazy."

"Listen, just get in the car. I'm being nice."

"You're not the boss of me, Hotch."

"I once was."

She crossed her arms and looked up at his six foot two build. It was going to be a long day if she pushed the matter. It would be pointless to try and argue with someone was hell bent on being the perfect man. Well, perfect for her, anyway. "I'm not going to win this argument, aren't I?"

Hotch grinned and shook his head, turning on his heel. "I like driving."

"Hotch."

"Helps me clear my head."

He proceeded to walk ahead, crossing the street with a huge grin on his face. Emily went after him, glancing around for oncoming vehicles. She then spotted Hotch's SUV parked out front the coffee shop, behind them. Emily jogged to compete with his long strides and caught up with him. Tapping his shoulder, she said, "I think we just missed our ride."

Hotch slowed down his pace to match hers, nodding. "I am aware."

"I thought you were driving me to work."

"I think you need a break." He glanced at her. Emily nodded in bewilderment. "I do too, but I still have to go to work."

"No, you don't. At least not until after lunch. You're too stressed out."

"I have papers that need to be signed…"

"Paperwork can wait."

"Hotch,"

"I just realized that if I didn't bring you food last night, you would have starved to death. Do you really want to die by paperwork?" Hotch raised his eyebrows at her. Emily, flustered, struggled to respond immediately. She knew he was aggressive, but when he got to this point? She had no clue—but it was damn sexy. "I've been where you are—I kinda still am—and trust me, it can wait."

She sighed, but she was glad he was doing this. Sometimes Emily needed the push. "Okay. But just up to lunch, and then I really have to go." They reached the sidewalk and Hotch turned around to face her. He smiled and nodded. "Deal."

"Now, where are you taking me?"

He held out his hand. Emily looked at it, and back to his face. "Let me show you."

* * *

**Oh, and hey Anon, even if Emily found out what Hotch was going to tell her in this Chapter, the story would not have ended yet, believe me. I still have a few things up my sleeve. :p **


	5. Crash and burn

**Appreciate you guys taking the time to read. Enjoy.**

* * *

Hotch wrapped his hands around the chain and yanked, an awful sound created by the two pieces of steel rubbing against one another. The chain loosened, and he gave it another tug. It unravelled from its tight coil, hanging freely from the gate. He reached around to bring the chain's end to the other side.

Emily's need to know everything attitude nibbled on her all the way to this place where Hotch had taken her. They were standing in some sort of an alleyway sealed with a small gate, sandwiched in the middle of two buildings. She could see the path ahead was narrow, but it led deep into the area that she could not pinpoint where it ended.

She glanced at his hands, and wondered how it could have roughly pulled apart that huge chain with the gentleness she had felt while he was holding her. Hotch smiled at her while he pushed the gate open. "We don't need a warrant to be in here, Em."

"I was worried you'd say something like that." She chuckled, stepping inside first because he had taken a step back and gestured for her to do so. Hotch followed, closing the gate behind him. He then casually touched her lower back, urging her forward. "You won't regret this. Trust me."

Emily looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Now I'm really worried."

Hotch laughed. "Look, I know it looks a little sketchy on the outside. Kinda like where you'd wanna stash dead bodies or something."

"Fine choice of words there, Hotch."

They started walking, and Emily noticed it was eerily quiet when none of them spoke. Still saying nothing, she looked around but saw nothing hopeful. Everywhere she turned she was met with the building walls brushed with dirt and time. But that only added to her eagerness to know what actually was beyond this rather morbid trail. She could feel Hotch close to her, their shoulders grazing, but something else distracted her. As they moved further, Emily saw that the tight road opened up to a much larger area, and already, something had her captivated. She continued walking, until she stepped on something.

Emily took her foot from the ground, revealing the slightly trampled on leaf. But less than inch away was a flower vibrantly colored purple, and another lay untouched on the ground. And another one. To her surprise, the path in front of her was scattered with flowers that had fallen from a tree just above them. Its long branch extended over Hotch and Emily, a hundred more of the same species up there. Emily had never seen a tree give off flowers, and not as beautiful as this one. She was completely taken by the sight.

Then something flitted to her, its wings spotted with red. She froze as she watched the butterfly fight the slow wind, flapping its magnificent wings. The top portion was dotted with tiny red dots, and the rest was white. It looked absolutely beautiful. Emily opened her palm and the small creature found its landing spot. She admired its appearance and thought of JJ. JJ would know what this butterfly is; she collected them as a child.

"Emily, look in front of you."

She did, and her eyes could not absorb the amazing sight. Emily literally dropped her jaw, and had trouble receiving what stood before her. A garden splattered with colors just sat there, covering the entire area. Shrubbery ran from corner to corner, with a variety of bloomed flowers seated on every bush. Smaller trees stood tall at the sides, their trunks against the tan painted walls. Except for the larger wall across them, which had an intricately painted mural of a woman cradling the earth. Stone paths plastered on the ground, taking one all around. But what had seized Emily's attention was the grand fountain right in the center, basking in all its gloriousness. Vines crawled from the ground to its foundation and attached themselves to it. At the time of the day, the sunlight angled perfectly, hitting its long neck. Water spouted from the tip, falling in perfect arches to the bottom.

Like in a trance, Emily walked towards it until she felt the hardened clay-like surface beneath her fingers. She dipped her hand in the shallow water, creating a ripple. She smiled at her reflection in the clear water, and that smile grew wider when she saw Hotch's. "This is gorgeous. My god. And in the city? You would think something like this would exist only in dreams." Emily faced him. "How did you find this place?"

"I was one of the people who helped turned this place."

"You?"

"Don't look so surprised." Hotch grinned and slipped his hands in his pockets. He went for the bench situated in front of the mural and sat down. Emily followed him, but pushed her hip to lean on the fountain. They were about two meters away from each other and with the sun up high, Emily could not skip on admiring Hotch's unfaltering good looks. Putting her hands to the sides, she cocked her head at a smiling Hotch. He squinted at her, as she stood against the light. "I'll tell you about it."

Emily nodded. "I'm listening."

"About seven or eight years ago, Jack's school lost their soccer field to their rival school. Some rich dad couldn't get over the loss of a game and that was payback."

"Seriously? That was real mature of him." She muttered. He chuckled and nodded. "My thoughts exactly. So anyway, with all the legal hype around the issue, Jack and his team had no choice but to move on from it. It was tough because they all had to look for places where they could practice. I mean, the size of the entire team couldn't hold in a public place. So they had to split up and find time to practice on their own."

"I imagine how hard that must have been, but I have a confident feeling Jack handled it well."

Hotch grinned. "That's true. He was being such a good sport about it. Told me it didn't matter where they practiced, as long as they were able to. And that's how this place came into the picture. Jack had a best friend on the team—his name was Shane. Shane lived about four doors down from here, and he suggested that he and Jack practice in what this was before—an alley. I was hesitant about it, but they insisted." He shrugged. "I couldn't say no to them."

"You love Jack." Emily said simply, unable to resist saying it out loud. Hotch was such an amazing father, and she had always found that so endearing. Her breath caught as Hotch broke into a huge smile that was meant for her. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling the strong swirl of the tingle in her stomach.

"See this wall behind me?" He asked, twisting his body and jabbing a finger at the mural. "Before that was painted over, it was just a plain old wall where Jack and Shane would kick the soccer balls. When it reflected back onto them, they would ease into the role of goalies and try to stop the balls from going past them. That was the best level of motivation I've ever witnessed in my life. And I've seen—_we've_ seen a lot of things in this lifetime."

She smiled, feeling weak at the knees, and returned his meaningful stare. "Oh, I know. A lot of whack jobs and loonies."

"But plenty of lives saved, too."

"Yeah. That, too."

Hotch sighed, rubbing his palm across his jaw, appearing somber. "Unfortunately, in this case, we lost a life. It was the second day of the competition when Shane collapsed in the middle of the match. We rushed him to the hospital and the doctors treated him for heart burn. Everyone was sick to their stomachs worried, but we all went home assured that he would be okay. After all, he was young and strong, and what he had was treatable. But things got complicated, and he got even sicker… until he couldn't hold on anymore."

Emily's face changed as she listened to Hotch and felt empathetically sad that such a young life had been taken. How hard it must have been to see someone you cared about one day and lose them forever the next. "That's just… I'm sorry, it's horrible. I mean, I get it, we all have rough patches, but he was only a kid…"

"Jack was afraid he'd forget Shane." He explained. "I promised him he wouldn't. That's why we created this place. All his teammates and their parents helped to build this little memorial for Shane. Being here, for us who knew the story—well, it reminds us of the wonderful boy we once knew."

"You know what, I think that's just fitting." Emily smiled.

"Do you wanna know something, Emily?"

"What?"

"I kept thinking how it could've been Jack." Hotch revealed shakily, looking at her with complete honesty. "Oh, Hotch," Emily immediately said, walking towards him. She placed a hand on his shoulder as she occupied the bench. He glanced at her, sparing her a small smile. "I'm sorry. It's just, when you're a parent, you're constantly thinking of how to protect your child even though you know very well that you can't protect them from everything. But still you hope."

Emily gripped his shoulder and wish she knew the perfect reply to that. Just to make him feel better. Because Emily knew he tried to be there for his son all the time, but aside from holding down a job as a dad, Hotch was responsible for keeping the rest of the country safe and the fact that he tried to do both is admirable in itself. She couldn't find the words, and they were left in silence.

Suddenly Hotch's hand climbed up to touch the hand she had laid on his shoulder. Emily, surprised, looked at him. He glanced down at the ground before turning to her. "Remember at the coffee shop when you asked about this shirt?"

"Yes." Emily nodded slowly. "Remember when you seemed a little upset?"

He chuckled and removed his hand, dropping it back onto his lap. "Not a little. I was a whole lot of upset. Angry, even."

She waited for him to speak his mind, but Emily's was already taking on a life of its own. She'd trained herself to always think ahead, and she couldn't help herself this time. Emily searched his face for signs that he was thinking the same thing, and she brushed all doubt aside when a full minute passed and Hotch couldn't do anything but hesitate. So Emily took the lead, and hoped that it would make it easier for him to open up.

"You were angry because…" Emily started out softly, her dark eyes getting lost in a whirlpool of emotions. "Because of what Cyrus did to me."

Hotch didn't respond right away, but he glanced her way and she saw the old hurt lingering. The same hurt she denied seeing years ago when she walked away from the team. From him. His lips set into a straight line, and wryly, he said, "Is it wrong of me to?"

"No. Of course not." Emily's lips flew apart, blurting out what she knew in her heart was the truth. She just hoped the truth would wipe the pain from his face, because no one was to blame for what happened—she made that clear long ago. She didn't hold back the team's anger and neither did she hold back hers. Getting beaten up within an inch of your life in return for the safety of others was not an issue with Emily. But getting beaten up, period—well, in that aspect alone it was pretty antagonizing. "But no one is to blame, Hotch."

"Do you really believe that?"

Emily controlled her expression and took a deep breath. "I know you feel responsible. I know you. But listen, not everything is in your hands. And in that situation I would have done the same thing whether or not you ordered me not to. I told Reid back then, and I'm telling you now—it was my choice. I knew the risks and I let that happen to myself because I knew it _needed_ to happen if we wanted to save those women and children."

He looked at her, the way he stared at her growing more intense by each passing second. "And I know you, Emily. You are a wonderful, kind, beautiful person—but I should have stopped him before he almost broke all of your bones. I was your boss. I was supposed to protect you and I failed."

"We saved all those people. You didn't fail, understand, Hotch?" She said urgently, grabbing his arm to get his attention.

"I listened to every second of it, and I could picture out what he was doing to you with every little noise. And I felt like throwing up. We were so close, and if I had just given the orders, we would have had men swarming the place."

"You think I didn't know?" Emily's heart thudded, jumping out of her chest and slamming back down. She flashed back to the faint recollection of Morgan apologizing for what happened, and telling her that Hotch had called out the orders to clear the compound—to get her and Reid out of harm's way—but a level-headed Rossi understood the stakes. And that they had only one shot at Cyrus. So Hotch was forced to stand down. "I know you wanted us out of there. I know you tried. But the right thing always manages to prevail, and that's what happened."

Hotch ran a hand through his thick hair, with a little shake of his head. "I'm sorry, Em."

She couldn't take being so polite anymore. Taking Hotch's hand with much needed force, she gripped it with two of hers and forced herself to look into his eyes. Emily found it quite difficult to do the latter, because there was that small fear in the back of her head that Hotch would see right through her. "Please. Don't apologize. I understand how you feel, but please. "

"I didn't mean to bring up the bad. I just want you to know, Em, that I wish I could have helped you when you needed it."

"Attending my burial when you set up _my_ plane ticket and alias? Lying to the team to protect _my_ secret? You have helped make my life what it is now, and I will never stop being grateful for you."

To you. For you. There was a difference, and Emily meant exactly what she said.

Emily could feel herself slipping, all those contained emotions pounding on the closet door, begging to be let out. Her mouth went dry as a bone, the words she'd been dying to say stuck in her throat. Of all the times she choked up, this had to be the worst. She couldn't go on like this any longer. Emily couldn't just sit there and hold Hotch's hand and not want to hold it forever.

He needed to know. And Emily needed to be honest with herself and with him.

"There's something you should've heard a—" Hotch hastily cut off as his phone sharply pierced the silence. It was a two second alert tone, but it was enough to distract him. His lips went into a line, and with a small shake of his head, Hotch glanced at her apologetically. "Do you have to go?" Emily asked and tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, even it was slowly killing her inside to always have missed her chances.

"I, uh, it's—it's Jack. It's time to pick him up from soccer."

She brightened up for his sake, even if it was anything but a genuine smile. Emily crossed and uncrossed her arms—a trait she had picked up from her mother—and said, "Oh, of course. I understand. The day goes on." Emily stood up first, never one who liked any sort of goodbye. She tried to make it as short and less painful as possible, especially this one.

Hotch held her arm, and her skin burned at his touch. Emily turned to him, her face almost flushed. "He's probably hungry after practice and all. And it's around noon so we all pretty much are. Would you just… would you join us for lunch?"

"Are you sure?" Emily asked.

"Yes, I'm sure." He replied. "I think Jack would love it. I also honestly feel that I can't see you enough after thirteen years. That is, unless, you're bored of my face. Then we can call it a day."

She knew he was joking—and heck, she would never ever get tired of him—but there was something strangely real in his eyes, and Emily knew there was still hope.

"You kidding me? A date with the Hotchner boys?" Emily grinned. "How could I pass that up?"

xxx

Emily was so startled at the sight of Jack. He had grown outrageously tall over the years, almost up to Hotch's shoulders. She always thought he would take after Haley's looks, but now his hair was darker, his eyes possessing the same spark his father had. Jack turned his profile to her, and Emily saw that his strong jaw was of Hotch's. He smiled a lot, but whenever the smile went away, she could see the familiar hardness settle on his features. For a young boy he was turning out to be very handsome.

"He takes after you." She murmured to Hotch across the table as they watched Jack step into the restaurant. Jack had left something in the car and had to go back for it. Hotch waved his son over before looking at Emily with a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, he does."

Jack handed the car keys back to Hotch, who asked if he remembered to lock the doors. Jack made a face. "You know I did, Dad."

"Just making sure."

"I'm sixteen. Almost seventeen." He said, sliding into the chair beside Hotch. Then Jack looked at his father pointedly. "Old enough to drive my own car."

"But not old enough to pay for the hospital bills if you get into an accident."

"I won't!" Jack took on a cross expression that contrasted with Hotch's calm one—as if he'd heard this argument before. Emily mused at them quietly. "I'm just saying, Dad, if you get me a car, I'd save you the trouble of taking me places. Being driven around was nice when I was eight, but you know I don't like feeling too dependent."

Hotch chuckled. "I understand what you're trying to say. And I'm not saying you're never getting a car—just not today."

"I think I've heard that before." Jack grumbled, but then noticed Emily's eyes on him and flushed. He raised his brown eyes at her with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Aunt Emily. It's nice to see you again. Really."

Jack smiled widely and her heart melted. This was the same boy who tried not to cry when his front tooth fell out, and Emily could see that nothing much had changed. "That is very sweet of you. I was a little nervous you wouldn't remember me anymore. Then, how could you forget when I almost burned your house down baking cookies?"

"But you used the fire extinguisher pretty well. I remember that part."

She grinned and Hotch laughed at her reddening face. "Yeah, I shouldn't have brought that up. That was pretty embarrassing now that I think about it. Don't worry, Jack, I've given up on cooking. I'm going to kill someone if I don't."

He shrugged. "Hey, must happen to everyone. Dad threw a flaming plate through our window once."

Hotch stopped laughing, his face frozen in horror. Emily raised an eyebrow , grinning. She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Look who's laughing now, Mr. Hotshot."

Hotch pretended to give his son a death stare. "I thought we've put that behind us."

"And _then_ the bush outside caught fire." Jack continued, a slightly evil gleam in his eyes. He was smirking, and in a split second Emily saw a younger Hotch. Jack laughed at his dad's face. Hotch jabbed his hands into Jack's side, and Jack yelped in between laughs. Seconds later, their chairs were scraping on the tiled floor as the father and son attacked each other with tickles.

They caught a waiter's attention, who began to make his way to them. Emily was laughing as well, but she held out her hand to call a truce. "I'm waving the white flag. Come on, boys, behave."

Jack used his speed to target Hotch one more time in the neck before folding his arms to himself and nodding at her innocently. Hotch looked like he was going to retaliate, but Jack glanced at him with a serious look. "Good call, Aunt Emily. Dad always listens to you."

Emily was smiling, and then she caught Hotch's eyes. "Really now?" He smiled back lightly before Jack interrupted. "I don't know how you do it. He doesn't listen to anybody but you. Not even Beth. It's like what you have to say is the only thing that matters to him—" Hotch clamped a hand over his son's mouth just as the waiter got to them. "I think you've said enough, young man."

Hotch smiled at Emily harmlessly and focused on the waiter who had already flourished his notepad. While he was ordering for them, Jack mouthed _"It's true"_ at Emily. She hid a pleased smile, but deep down her stomach was going around in circles, her heart jumping all over the place. They were scarce in communication, but one email or two always got to them. She didn't realize until this moment that perhaps the little things she'd been telling Hotch were the things he really took to heart.

The waiter went away, and Hotch smiled at Emily impishly. "What I ordered for you is going to be a surprise. But you'll love it. I'm crossing my fingers just to make sure."

"No doubt I will." She removed her eyes from him before she could stare too long and give herself away. Jack had that boyish smile on his face, and Emily adored how his wavy brown hair curled on his forehead. "So, Jack, you psyched for your upcoming game? I know it might not be good to ask—might give you the jitters, but I'm asking anyway."

"Aw, it's fine, Aunt Em." Jack grinned. "A little nervous, but my team's a fighting machine. Coach has been pushing everybody lately, and it's helping. We're going for the gold."

"Is the match an invite only or can anyone show up?"

Emily's smile grew when Jack smiled back widely, nodding eagerly. "You're coming. You _are_ coming, right? That's why you asked?"

Hotch put a sensible hand on him, saying softly, "Aunt Emily has a tight schedule. You…" Hotch stopped talking as Emily waved a reassuring hand at him and smiled. She looked to and from Hotch's curious expression and Jack's expectant grin.

"Someone once proved to me that there are things in life we shouldn't pass up." Emily paused, almost regretting the dreamy smile she had on. She couldn't be any more explicit about her feelings. "It went something along the lines of not _dying by paperwork_."

A giddy feeling burst in her as Hotch's smile crept to the edge of his cheeks, the side of his eyes crinkling handsomely. His eyes were shining, and her heart did a somersault about fifty times. And the fact that he was looking right at her made all her feelings harder to keep in. Emily glanced at him, smiled, then made contact with her hands on her lap. She cleared her throat, still smiling, "I've broken a lot of promises and disappointed a lot of people, but, Jack, your game is a promise I intend on keeping."

Jack looked completely in awe of her. Hotch had rested chin on the palm of his hand, looking at Emily intently. She tried not to mind that. "Thank you. Dad always…" Jack glanced at Hotch and went on. "Dad always told me he didn't like to make promises. Because he couldn't make all of them happen, and he didn't want to hurt people. But it's weird, because you promise to be there—and I believe you."

"You know what, buddy, that's something you haven't learned about Aunt Emily until today." Hotch touched the back of Jack's head lovingly. "She thinks she's disappointed people, but really, she hasn't. I think people have let her down plenty of times but never the other way around."

Jack scrunched up his nose. "You mean some people didn't treat her the way she should be treated?"

"I mean, Aunt Emily deserved a lot things—things that should have happened if only people weren't held back by fear and cowardice."

There it was again. Emily felt it. He was speaking in code, something that seemed to make sense, but really was just confusing. She regarded him discreetly, but still couldn't read him. Before she could scrutinize him even more, Jack asked her a question. "When we were coming here, you seemed to know a lot about soccer, like you played the sport. Did you, Aunt Em?"

"Oh, um," She hesitated, leaning back from the table. She didn't realize it earlier, but she knew so much about the sport because of Eric. "My boyfriend is… Eric Miller. He plays for the—"

"I know who he is! Oh, man!" Jack bounced up and down excitedly. "Number 18. Oh, geez. You're with _him?_ Wow. I've tried to learn his tricks since I was ten, and up to today I'm still having trouble. Eric Miller. Wow. Just wow."

Emily felt miserable all of a sudden. She smiled, but it was forced, and for some reason she couldn't bear to look at Hotch. But Jack's big smile kept her focused, and it was so difficult to disappoint the boy she loved. "Tell you what, I'll talk to Eric and convince him to come to one of your practices so he can help you boys out. How does that sound?"

Hotch was quiet. Jack was nodding so hard his neck could snap off if he went any harder. "That would be an honor, Aunt Em. Oh please. I hope he finds the time. The team's going to go nuts if he shows up."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to do that."

"Thanks, Emily." Hotch said softly. "This means a lot to Jack and his friends."

She couldn't shake off the mutual, odd feeling she seemed to be sharing with Hotch. Jack, oblivious to anything else but the good news, started going at it with his phone. Emily's mouth was dry, and Hotch looked like he had nothing more to say. Then Jack stopped, and looked at his dad. "Hey dad, I wanted to tell you something."

"Hmm? What is it?" Hotch looked almost relieved.

"I want to invite someone over for dinner."

"Sure. Does he like to eat anything in particular?"

"_She_. It's a girl."

"Oh." Hotch looked surprised, but reverted to a smile. "How long have you been…"

Jack interrupted. "Actually, you know her. Melissa Carlisle."

"Melissa? Your first—her?"

Emily found it easy to smile at their interaction. Jack blushed and ruffled his hair. "Yeah."

"I thought she moved to California."

"She moved back. Here. Permanently."

Hotch nodded. "And you still like her. You've never stopped."

"Dad, you're profiling me."

"But I'm right, aren't I?"

"She got away the first time. I'm not…" He sighed. "I can't lose her again."

Emily watched Jack's face change from an average teenage boy to a boy irrevocably inlove. It was interesting, and so adorable.

"I know I'm young. I've got a lot to learn. But I like Melissa. I really, really like her. Ever since she left, she's all I wanna see again. And that means something, right, Dad?"

Hotch nodded slowly, his face slightly losing color. "Yes—it does."

Emily wondered what that was all about, but then a bigger shock came around the bend. Literally. Coming toward them was a pretty brunette with a warm smile, with the same kind eyes. Looking a little older, but still who Emily knew. Emily motioned lamely with her hand.

Hotch whipped around, and it turns out, it was a shocker to him too. "Beth. Hi," he stood up and met her. "How did… what are you doing here? Didn't you have a lunch date with the girls?"

"Anna cancelled on the last minute. I only assumed you boys were here, but then I saw your car." Beth kissed his cheek. Emily felt like a dagger was ripping her insides altogether, and she hung her head to hide whatever hurt expression she was holding. She didn't notice when Beth finally recognized her. "Emily? Emily Prentiss?"

Before Emily could register, she was up to her feet and enveloping the other woman in a hug. Emily wanted to give a compliment, but her brain froze and ironically her head was spinning. She had to get out of there. "You look so stunning. Flawless. I'm jealous." Beth declared with a laugh.

"Oh," Emily could only chuckle.

"After all this time?" She was shaking his head. "Meeting with Hotch again for the first time in years—talk about a reunion, huh?"

Now Emily was puzzled. What was Beth talking about? She'd been seeing Hotch for the past week. Hardly exactly the first time. Beth continued speaking to Emily. "It's a shame you didn't get to meet under better circumstances. I've always admired your talent and skill in the profiling business, Emily."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked before she thought. If only she knew how much she would regret hearing the answer. She was smiling, though it lacked the vibrancy. Hotch opened his mouth, his expression broken and his hands were reaching out for her, almost. Emily saw the urgency he had in his eyes, like he was begging Emily to understand what he was trying to say without speaking. Emily, befuddled, toggled her attention from Hotch to Beth as she said, "Aaron told me you had been contacting each other about a case he was on, and that you bumped into each other today at the park. It's like the team's back, you know? Catching murderers and whatnot."

She could not swallow Beth's words. She briefly profiled the woman, and judged that she was telling the truth. Emily blinked—hard—and tried to prevent her outrage from spilling. Her cheeks flamed, as if Beth's words had slapped her back and forth. Emily looked at Hotch with her mouth open, and he dared to look back at her. His lips were pressed to each other, his knuckles white. Hotch's eyes screamed at her, but she was too hurt to think about it.

And for some reason Emily played along.

"Yes, the team." Emily choked out the first things that came to her mind. "Just like the old times. You're right. Serial killers can be very… evasive."

Beth nodded. "I assume so."

Emily knew Hotch could feel her anger boiling. And it pissed her even more how he was standing there like some scarecrow with sad eyes as if _that_ helped the situation. Emily was not a person who was tricked—this easily, for that matter. She was seething with humiliation and she felt like taking it out on the table next to her. She couldn't wrap her mind around the _why_ part.

She shot him a glare that said she was going to walk away right this very moment if this charade was going to continue. Hotch understood, and he cleared his throat. "Hey, buddy, why don't you tell Beth about Melissa. I'm sure she'd love to hear about it."

"Good idea." Jack agreed brightly.

Beth put an arm around his shoulders. "Why don't we talk on our way out, Jack? I think I saw those soccer spikes that you like in the store next to this place."

"An even better idea!"

They both went away, contented with leading each other out and unaffected by the storm brewing. Emily wanted to run, but Hotch was blocking the way as if he read her mind. They stood, staring intensely at each other. Now that she didn't have to worry about anybody else, Emily felt like telling Hotch just what was on her mind. She tried to find the words—not caring if they were polite or not—and she tried to use her anger to hurl share some unkind thoughts, but nothing would come out.

"Emily," Hotch said. She didn't respond, more so bat an eye. "Emily, I…" He repeated louder, and stepped forward.

"What, Hotch?" Emily surprised him. "Forgot to tell your _wife_ where you've been the past few days?"

"It's not like that. It's not what you think." He sounded strangled, his face crumbling. "It just came out differently."

"Oh, I think I know exactly what she meant." Emily almost pounded her fist to his chest, though that wouldn't have done any good to him. "I didn't know you were so embarrassed to have me around. I'm sorry this happened."

"I'm not."

Emily forgot whatever retort she had prepared as she looked at Hotch uncomprehendingly. Something wasn't… Hotch pointed to the chair she occupied. "I know you think I don't deserve this right now, but, please, Em, hear me out."

She regarded him icily before dropping to the chair, feeling like passing out at any given time. The day had started out so beautifully, and now this came crashing down. The ray of hope she'd been holding on to started to wither. Hotch sat across her, immediately brushing his face with his hands and sighing into them.

Hotch lifted his head and looked at her for a long time. Emily almost yelled at him to say something but he beat her to it. "This week… with you… has been amazing. I've never been so happy to be with someone again as much as when I'm with you."

"So happy you had to lie to Beth? What else have you been telling her?"

"Emily,"

"No, seriously, what stories have you been feeding her? Did you explain to her why you asked me on this supposed case? Last time I heard, another team already had me for consultation. Come on, your story's not adding up."

Hotch almost glowered, but he looked more upset. "You don't have to make this difficult. I—"

"Because I just realized something. You've never needed me for anything other than work. Which explains your pathetic excuse. Thanks. Makes me feel a hell of a lot better. At least your wife knows I'm more of a colleague than a friend. Gee, couldn't you have made it look like you want me around as someone you'd like to spend an afternoon having coffee with?"

"I never meant it that way. Please, listen, I—"

"Stop yourself right there, Hotch, because you meant it the way you wanted to. It was your choice to pretend you were on some non-existent case with me. It makes me feel so good about myself that you had to hide our encounters from Beth. Doesn't that speak volumes about what you think about me."

"Em, I…"

"Why did you lie, Hotch?"

"Because if I told Beth I was seeing you, she'd know." Hotch's sounded angry, and then his eyes were colored with passion, locking them with hers. "She'd know that I was still inlove with you, Emily."

The blood rushed to her head, and the air left her. Emily felt that she was hyperventilating, but she couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure of anything right now. All she could see was his face, and that didn't need profiling. He was inlove with her. As she was with him. But Emily couldn't label her feelings correctly, her heart pounding and if it went any harder it might just rip out of her chest.

"I… I tried to tell you. I really did. But I was—I was afraid. I should have told you fifteen years ago—twenty years. I shouldn't have let you walk away so easily. Just… being with you has been everything I've imagined. And I didn't want it to end…"

Emily staggered to her feet, stopping Hotch from saying any more. There was dull pain in her heart, and she didn't understand why it was so. But she knew she needed to leave. It was all beginning to be too much. Nothing in her life prepared her for this moment. Emily couldn't take it. She walked off, ignoring (or maybe not hearing) him call her name.

Finally Hotch jerked her back, his face hovering close to hers. "Don't. Emily. I'm sorry. Don't go. Please."

Emily wrenched her arm free and continued walking, then jogging, then it turned into running. She reached for the main door, when it opened from the other side. Beth and Jack were startled as she rushed by them, her body heavy. She knocked the paper bag out of Jack's hand, muttered an apology, and ran blindly down the street. She didn't care where she was going. She didn't know. She just didn't.

* * *

**I sincerely apologize for the delay. I know this chapter has been long overdue and I'm really sorry. The first semester of my first year in college has lived up to the expectations of being busy and I've been adjusting to the college life. I've tried to update, but I was never satisfied with the rushed work. I put if off until I knew I could write to the best of my abilities, because that's what you guys deserve. I'm sorry again, and thank you!**

**Sound off in the reviews section, please. x**


	6. All in

**I think you guys might be the most patient people I've come to know. I really am thankful that you're still around for this fic. I can't promise anything, but for the next chapters, you won't have to wait long. **

**Also, thanks for the reviews. Makes me smile. :)**

* * *

Emily had been sitting on her couch, a warm blanket over her folded legs. She stared blankly at the television screen, her finger aimlessly pressing on the buttons of the remote control. She'd probably gone over the complete set of channels a couple of times, but she wasn't really watching. Or paying attention. Guess it just helped to fill the silence of her apartment. The noise distracted her, led her away to some other world even for mere seconds. That helped a little.

She looked up at her high ceiling, wondering what color it was painted—despite the fact that she already knew. Just anything to occupy her mind. Emily blinked, sighing as she turned to her screen. She had taken refuge on her couch after what happened at the diner. Locked herself in. For some unexplainable cause, she was literally weak at the knees.

Emily lifted a hand to run her fingers through her hair, her jaw hardening. She took a deep breath as she collected herself. She was a train wreck—and for the life of her, she couldn't compartmentalize. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel or how she was supposed to react. She just didn't know what to be right now.

Thankfully, Eric was out of town. Emily didn't think she could muster even a small smile for him if he was around. Immediately she turned at the portrait of them on the beach, and felt horrible. She wanted to throw up.

Emily saw the photo, and in her head she willingly said she would give all their days away just to have another minute with Hotch.

She pulled the edge of her blanket up to her chin. She shut her eyes and tried to will all the bad feelings to go away. All the negativity to leave her. Emily was shaking her head. She wasn't a bad person. She wasn't. She was just a woman inlove, and she couldn't help it.

Two knocks came down on her door, and she gasped. It was nine in the evening, and she was in the middle of pouring her heart out. Emily got up and trudged to the door. She was barely dressed. Her shorts covered only what was important, and the loose shirt she had cling freely from her curves. But she didn't have time to think about that as a knock came again.

Emily wasn't surprised to see that Hotch was standing on the other side.

The hallway lights cast a shadow on his face, but his eyes were dark and thunderous—and looking right at her. Emily avoided from drawing a sharp breath, and she found herself looking back calmly. "You should be home with your family."

"They're fine."

"Well, I'm fine, too." Emily said. "You should go. It's late."

She gripped the door and moved to close it, when Hotch was suddenly inside her apartment, his arm stopping the door from shutting. Emily could hear her breaths as she looked up at him, startled. She gulped, her arms stiff at her sides.

Hotch proceeded to close the door, turning away from her. He seemed to be leaning on the door for a few seconds before he spun around, and Emily saw that his eyes were glassy. His voice broke when he spoke.

"I love you. I have never stopped loving you. In all my life, I never knew I could love someone this much. I didn't know this kind of love existed. Until you came along. It scared me because it felt so real. And I knew it was. Emily, I look at you and I don't just see _you_. I see my whole life. I know I made a mistake and I regret it. I regret not waking up to you every morning. I regret not driving together to work. I regret not being with you. I regret not telling you every day that I love you _so much_."

She was taking shallow breaths. "Don't say that. You can't. You have a family, Hotch."

"But I don't have you."

Emily knees buckled. She was able to hold on to the back of her couch weakly, though she tried not to let everything show. "It doesn't matter. We're not in the same place anymore. You have to let me go."

Her words seemed to break a bone in Hotch as he charged to her, standing all too closely. His heat burned her skin, his hands blazing a trail as he touched her shoulders. Emily started to protest, but was defeated by her own feelings.

"Tell me you don't love me anymore, Emily. Tell me, and I'll go. I'll leave you alone."

"Anymore?" She replied, her heart beating so fast the room was spinning.

Hotch swept her hair back, his hands moving to the side of her face. "Tell me you didn't love me at all. Tell me that, and you won't ever see me again."

Emily looked deeply into his dark eyes and found nothing but love. She felt herself slipping away, falling deeper into what they shared. All this time she thought she was hoping for nothing, waiting by herself. But here he was, and here they were. The universe was begging them to take the plunge and in all honesty, Emily wanted to take it. But she didn't know if following her heart or doing the right thing was the same matter.

This is what she always wanted—this is whom she always wanted, but she pulled away from Hotch and walked to the open glass doors that led to her balcony. The curtains brushed and slid around Emily's legs like silk. The cold wind of the night settled on her cheeks, a small shiver ran up her spine. Crossing her arms, she stood with her back to him, though she knew he had moved closer to her.

"It's not fair." Emily trembled, her voice shaking badly. "You know I do. You know I love you. _You know_ I always have."

"Then please, Emily." She tried not to jump as she figured out how close to her he was from his voice. "Give me a chance to make this right between you and me. Give _us_ a chance."

"People are going to get hurt if we do this. And then nothing will ever be right."

"You and me—Emily, this is what's right. This has always been right. We just took a little longer realizing that."

She said nothing in reply. Her throat ached and she couldn't quite look at him again. She was afraid she'd unravel like a ball of yarn if she did. And at the moment, Emily needed to have a clear head. With everything that's out in open… well, she just had to.

"I picked up the phone for you, Emily. I bought a plane ticket to Paris on some obscured plan of seeing you, just so I could tell you in person that you were never alone. I cooked you dinner because you told me before you've probably hadn't had a homecooked meal in a long time. I took you to the garden because that place reminded me how life happened in a blink, and having you there solidified how much I never want to lose you again. I asked you to have lunch with Jack because you are the two people in the world that I will never stop loving, no matter what. You are a beautiful person; right now I'm witnessing that. You care about things other than yourself, even when it's hard to do that." Hotch's voice wavered. "You make loving _you_ easy. Every day, I fall a little harder, a little deeper. Emily Prentiss, I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you. For the rest of my life, all I want to do is love you. I love you, and I want to be with you."

Emily turned to look at the city lights that were fortunately her view from her balcony. Her vision blurred, the colors danced, and that's when she realized she was crying. Hotch didn't know he could love someone this much… and Emily didn't know someone could love this greatly. She was loved.

Tears rushed down, splashing her porcelain cheeks. She drew a hand over her mouth as she closed her eyes, but that didn't stop her cries. Emotions racketeered throughout her body, and Emily turned around to find Hotch.

She didn't have to search for long, because his hands found her, guiding Emily to him. With her hands in front of her chest, she crashed into his open arms. Hotch held her tightly, whispering comfort in her ear. Emily's face was pressed to him, her arms relaxing as Hotch pried them away. Then he was kissing her. So gently. So softly. Never urgent or needy. Just a kiss that told her he really did love her. Emily could taste her tears as Hotch leaned down, giving into his emotions more as he did. She could feel herself letting go, allowing herself to be stuck in this moment with him.

And yes, nothing could feel as right.

**xxx**

Emily adjusted her shirt over her exposed tummy as she gave a final stretch in bed. Kicking the covers off, she straightened up and leaned on the headboard. She ran her fingers through her hair to release any tangles, squinting as she looked out to morning rays sneaking into her bedroom.

A light switch was flicked off, and a door swung close. Hotch came out of the bathroom, barefoot, with jeans and a t-shirt on. He gave a start when he saw that she was awake, but a smile appeared on his face immediately. "Hey. Good morning."

"Is there coffee?" She asked, her voice croaky from sleep.

His smile widened. He nodded, and started making a break for the kitchen when Emily called him. "Later. I'll have some later." Emily patted the space in front of her toes. "Come here."

Hotch padded to the bed, swinging his leg to the mattress. He squeezed her arm and met her eyes. "Everything okay?"

She looked at him thoughtfully, and her heart doubled over as she recounted last night's events. Hotch's words crashed into her again like a horde of waves, sending sparks all the way to the tip of her fingers. She could still feel his gentle touch, his lips brushing against her skin, the heat of his body next to her own. Emily took his hand, and felt very overwhelmed with emotion—she was close to crying—because the way Hotch was looking at her… she'd never seen anyone scream so much love in one glance.

"I love you, Hotch."

He leaned into her, and their lips met. Hotch removed his hand from Emily's, using it to hold her chin. He edged closer, his other hand leveraged on the bed. Even with her morning breath it seemed Hotch couldn't care less. She broke into a smile, and so did Hotch. They broke off, and he caressed her face tenderly. "Next to hearing Jack say his first word, that's the second best thing I've heard my entire life. I love you, too."

Emily grinned. "How about that cup of coffee?"

"Coming right up." Hotch jumped out of bed, sweeping her forehead with a kiss before he ambled to the kitchen. Before she knew it, he was back with two hot mugs full of creamy coffee, and he gave one to her gingerly. "Careful, it's hot."

"Thanks." She smiled, gripping the handle tightly as the vanilla smell drifted to her nose, and she sipped from it. Hotch did the same. And perhaps Emily could use the heat from the hot drink to excuse her blushing face when he intertwined his fingers with hers. He made her feel like a woman crazy inlove and at the same time a high school girl on her first date. From then on Emily knew something like this only happened once in a lifetime.

Emily glanced at Hotch, and knew deep down—with all her heart—that she loved him. But they couldn't avoid what was unavoidable, and she had to bring him down from cloud nine. "We can't turn back from this, you know."

Hotch nodded at her like he was expecting she'd bring it up. "I know. What's done is done. I don't regret it."

She could feel his gaze settling a little longer. Emily put her hand to his face and looked at him reassuringly. "Neither do I."

They went back to drinking their coffee, and by now it was already comfortable to close her hands around the mug, which had turned warm. Hotch downed his in one gulp, and he set the empty container on the bedside table. She wanted to say more, but didn't exactly know what. Finally, she asked, "What happens now?"

"I… I'd like to see you again."

"And Beth? Eric?" Emily wasn't sure if the guilt in her voice was so heavily drawn, but she sure felt like it was. Beth and Eric were good people and no doubt deserved a lot more than what Hotch and Emily were doing… but things weren't in black and white. It may seem easy, and in most situations it probably is. But not this one.

Hotch mirrored her expression, and he sighed inaudibly but loudly enough that she heard. She worried that the bliss was soon coming to an end. Emily tried not to nibble on her nail beds—a habit she had already broken years ago. But all her fears got thrown out of the window as Hotch said, "If people knew about this, they'd tell us that it's wrong. That's their piece. I know I took a vow and married Beth, and that should be as clear as night and day. But it isn't. I want to be with the woman I've been madly inlove with for almost half of my life and right now I'm going after her because I love her and I _know_ it—I know _you're_ the one. I mean, think about it. Is _that_ so wrong?"

He was always effective in shutting her up, and Emily felt like he took the words right out of her mouth. She was speechless, in a good way. Hotch kissed her forehead, breathing into her hair as he pulled Emily in for a hug. Emily knew he was right. They were already in this, and things couldn't be undone. But it made her feel a lot better knowing that they both wanted this. She knew there would be consequences, but at the moment the worst that came to mind had to be saying goodbye to Hotch as they went off to work. It was ridiculous how she wanted him near her all the time now.

"Do you want to order in for breakfast or would… would Beth be wondering where you are now?" Emily asked, her head on his shoulder.

"No, I think breakfast sounds good."

"You sure?"

"Well, I think forever sounds better, but," Hotch laughed as Emily swatted his arm. He reached for the phone to call a place he knew and Emily watched him, her own smile shining. Every girl had her own fairytale, her own perfect dream. And right now Emily was looking at hers, and she couldn't be happier.


End file.
